


Brothers

by lornrocks



Category: Fandom: Heroes
Genre: Big Brothers, Brothers, Fluff, M/M, Sweet, homoerotictension, ifeelromantictoday, possibleooc, promptfest, references, sort of, whatever, whitecollarreference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 05:56:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lornrocks/pseuds/lornrocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone wanted a fic where the boys were like a brother to Luke. So I went with this idea in my head. Sort of. It'll probably spawn some sequels. I dunno.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brothers

When Sylar had brought back some scrawny teenager to their home, Peter didn't ask questions. He knew all about Luke, and in all honesty, he felt like they owed the poor kid something.

So they let him stay with them, sleeping on their couch. He helped with chores, but mostly, he just hung out, playing games on his PSP and sleeping until noon. Sure, it kind of put a hinderance on the routine they had built up the past few months, since Sylar moved in, but it's not like they couldn't work around it.

They kept their relationship a secret from him, though. Not like he probably didn't already know. The two of them did share a bed, after all, but as far as Luke knew, it was out of necessity, not desire.

One particular day, they were watching one of Sylar's favorite tv shows, about a reformed criminal who was working for the good guys. Peter liked the show alright, but thought it was adorable how much Sylar identified with the main character. There was even a character named Peter on the show.

So they were watching, and Luke was laying on his stomach on the floor, half watching the show and half playing a video game. Peter and Sylar were sitting on the couch.

Thinking Luke was distracted, Sylar takes the opportunity to lean in and whisper, "I missed you."

He was referring, of course, to Peter having overworked himself all week, mostly leaving Sylar stuck at home and telling Luke to stop trying to microwave their dishes.

Peter slides his hand to rest on the other man's leg.

"The feeling's mutual," he whispers back, and he's just about to lean in for a quick kiss when suddenly, Luke says, "That is SO gay."

They push away like guilty children, but realize Luke was talking about the tv.

"Did you see that?" he asks, turning to look at the others. "I swear to God those two were about to make out. I mean, who looks at each other like that?" He shakes his head and turns back to his PSP.

Close call.

Later that day, they were walking around after Luke had gone to bed, stumbled upon a robbery, stopped it, but, of course, Peter got shot in the process. Just in the shoulder, but they couldn't go to the hospital. So, they hurried back to the apartment before anyone could see them.

Luke hears a noise and listens as Peter and Sylar come back into the apartment and straight into the kitchen. Tiptoeing, he stands by the doorway and listens. Curiosity was never one of his good traits, and he uses his PSP as a mirror to spy on the two of them.

He definitely wanted to know what the hell such powerful guys were doing out this late.

Peter's sprawled across his kitchen table, holding a hand to his shoulder as Sylar rolls up his sleeves.

Unceremoniously, Sylar rips Peter's shirt open and Luke can just make out the crimson blood dripping down the other man's chest.

"How bad is it?" Peter asks, trying to crane his neck to look, but Sylar gently pushes him back down.

"It's not too bad...hold still. God, Peter, I didn't know it was true for paramedics, too."

"What is?"

"They always say doctors make the worst patients."

Peter lets out of a huff of air, although whether it's in offense or pain, Luke can't tell.

"Just get it out," Peter finally says, and Sylar's hands linger over the wound.

"This is going to hurt," he says, and then starts to gingerly pull the bullet out with both his fingers and telekinesis. Peter groans and bites his lip to keep from getting too loud.

Once the bullet is freed, Sylar lets it fall on to the table with a dull thunk. He holds out his hand, letting Peter grab a hold of it, and some sort of spark passes between them. Peter sits up and Luke notices the gaping hole in his chest has healed up. Peter had taken the other man's healing.

"I will never get used to getting shot," he laments, as Sylar holds out a hand and summons a washcloth into his hand. He wipes the blood off Peter's collarbone.

"I'm sorry about your shirt," he apologizes, and Peter shrugs.

"That's okay. It was yours anyway."

"...I thought it looked familiar." Sylar puts the washcloth down. "Better?" he asks, and Peter shifts so he's sitting more on the edge of the table.

"It still hurts," Peter says, but his voice doesn't sound like he's serious. It sounds like he's...playing. Or something.

A nanosecond later Sylar has bent his head down so he can plant gentle kisses all along the seated man's collar bone and chest, and Luke's hand flies to his mouth as he suppresses a gasp.

Sylar pulls his mouth away but presses his forehead against Peter's shoulder. He closes his eyes, breathes in, and slides his arms around the other.

"Peter," he whispers, and the man in question slides a hand up to rub the back of Sylar's neck.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," he soothes, and Sylar buries his face in deeper.

"I'm not always going to be here to save you," Sylar says, voice muffled into the skin underneath him. Peter gently pulls his head back and holds his head in both hands.

"Yes, you will. We're okay, and we're going to keep being okay because we have each other, no matter what. Alright?"

Sylar nods weakly.

"I just...I get so scared sometimes. I can't bear to lose you, Peter, I just-"

"-Never. You're never going to lose me. Know why?"

"Because you love me too much?" Sylar guesses, smile starting to return to his face.

"I do. I do love you too much," Peter smiles back, and leans in to press a kiss to the other's mouth.

Luke lowers his PSP. He doesn't have anything against gay people, but he doesn't exactly want to sit here and watch his new house mates make out, either.

After a few seconds, Sylar says, "I love you too, Peter."

Peter replies, "I know."

A few more kissing noises, and Sylar adds, "Are you really okay with having Luke here?"

Luke scootches a little closer and listens.

"Well, we don't really have the space, but we can't turn him away, either."

"I would feel guilty if we did," Sylar admits, and Peter continues,

"Besides, I've never had a little brother. I can like, play basketball with him and tell him not to get girls pregnant and whatever else big brothers do," Peter half jokes, and Luke can hear the soft laughs between the two of them.

"I've never had any brothers," Sylar's saying. "Well, except that time I thought you were my brother."

There's a pause.

"I'm really, really glad that wasn't true," Peter says, completely deadpan, and then there's some more noises that Luke finds highly inappropriate in a situation like this. He gets up and starts to head back to the couch so he can pretend to be asleep when they come out.

Of the kitchen, that is.

Early that next morning, if Luke maybe happens to notice the two of them have been in the bathroom together too long with the water running, he doesn't say anything.

He can deal with having two "brothers" who were apparently madly in love with each other. They were nice enough to let him into their home, and feed him, and put up with his idiocy and poor impulse control, so he could put up with them bickering like an old married couple and making out when they thought no one was watching.

Besides, playing basketball with Peter and reading comic books and all that, it sounded actually kind of fun. And, on the off chance the government came for him again, he knew his new brothers would fight for him.

For the first time in a long time, Luke finally felt like he belonged.

**Author's Note:**

> Written forever ago on LJ.


End file.
